The Distraction Reaction
by bigbangenthusiast
Summary: Planning a wedding is stressful, especially when you're a perfectionist like Sheldon. Will Amy's attempt at a distraction be successful?


**A/N: I received a prompt from Shamymajimtbbt on Tumblr for Amy to distract Sheldon while he's working, and it ends in a tickle fight. I hope you enjoy!**

Amy entered the apartment and tossed her keys in the bowl. She looked to the couch where her fiancé sat, furiously scribbling in one of his composition notebooks. "Hi, Sheldon!" She greeted before removing her jacket and taking a seat next to him.

"Hello," he responded, without looking up from his work.

"What are you working on?"

"Wedding plans," he replied, eyes still on the notebook in his hands.

"If you're working on the music list, may I make a suggestion for the…"

For the first time since she arrived home, Sheldon looked at her. "Amy, I won the music list and the right to choose what songs we will play at our wedding. Besides, I already have that taken care of. I'm working on our cake right now."

She reached for the notebook. "Can I see?"

He shook his head and pulled the notebook back to him. "Not until I have all the details."

"Can you at least tell me what flavor?"

"I haven't narrowed it down yet," he mumbled. "I'm working on the design first."

She sat back and watched him furrow his brow and tap the paper with his pen. Moments later, he put ink to paper again, his hand gliding the writing tool along the white, lined sheet. He squinted at his work then sighed in frustration and flipped to the next page. Resting his chin in his hand, he stared at the blank page.

Amy lay her hand on his knee. "Is everything okay?"

"I tried sketching my idea, but I couldn't get C3PO's stance to look right. I don't trust the bakers to go off some picture they find on the internet. He needs to be posed correctly."

Amy sighed. Though she was not in favor of a Star Wars-themed cake, she had given up on trying to convince her fiancé to order something more traditional. When he once again set pen to paper, she picked up the latest issue of Journal of Neuroscience from the coffee table and thumbed the pages to the next unread article. Halfway through, Sheldon's grumblings caught her attention. He angrily flipped the page and glared at the empty sheet.

"Maybe a short break will help," she suggested.

"I can't afford to take a break. I need to finish this before bedtime."

"Sheldon, we're not getting married for another two months. You have plenty of time."

"Not true. I made appointments for us to speak with three different bakers tomorrow. We need to select the best one and get our names on the schedule before other couples get the same idea."

"Even a five-minute break can do wonders for a person's creativity and…," she trailed off as she realized Sheldon wasn't listening. His frown, tight grip on the pen, and hunched shoulders all screamed tension. Perhaps there was something she could do to relieve it. She slowly snaked her hand to his thigh. He gazed at her briefly then lowered his eyes to the page in front of him.

Feeling empowered, Amy crawled her fingers up to his hip bone and gently rested them before lifting his shirts slightly then climbing higher to his toned belly. She raised her eyes to his, but he was so in the zone that he didn't even look up at her. The frown lines etched on his face broke her heart. She had always thought wedding planning should be fun, not stressful. When they returned home after nearly eloping at city hall, they had both agreed to enjoy every moment of it. Now here he was, stressing over what she considered a minor detail. She boldly swept her fingertips over his flesh.

Sheldon blinked in surprise. "Amy, what are you doing?"

"I just want to see you smile and loosen up a little."

He drew his brows together. "Good luck with that. You won't see me smile until I have all the details worked out and the design looks flawless."

She shrugged innocently and continued her ministrations. When she received no reaction from him, she crooked her fingers and applied more pressure. He squirmed under her touch and giggled then gently grabbed her wrist and moved her hand to her lap. Not to be discouraged, she returned her hand to his bare skin and repeated her actions. When he attempted to move it again, she increased the pressure and speed.

"Amy, please I'm working," he panted after a round of laughter.

"Don't you feel better now?"

"No. This is only delaying my progress." He swatted her hand away and resumed staring at the notebook.

Still undeterred, she yanked the notebook and pen from his hands, tossed them on the coffee table, and lunged at him. He blindly reached for the coffee table, his fingers barely making contact with the edge. Taking advantage of the situation, her hands traveled to the sides of his ribcage, his most ticklish spot. He wriggled beneath her, the volume and intensity of his laughter increasing with each touch. She paused to let him catch his breath, but before she could lay her hands on him again, he surprised her by lifting her shirt slightly and copying what she had done to him moments earlier.

"How do you like it when I do it to you, Dr. Fowler?" He asked, as she writhed beneath his warm palms.

"Hey, no fair!" she squealed.

"All's fair in love and war."

She leaned back just out of his reach. Before he could anticipate her move, she straddled him, her hands seeking out his sides. "You may have won the battle, but I assure you, Dr. Cooper, that I will reign the victor!"

"Stop! Stop! I surrender!" He wheezed between bouts of laughter.

Her fingers continued their dance. "You're just trying to trick me."

"Sheldon Cooper does not believe in trickery," he huffed. Amy snorted. "Do I detect a snort of derision?"

"Yes."

"Well then, I'll prove to you that I'm metaphorically waving the white flag." He lifted his hands from her and held them in front of his face.

"Bad move, Dr. Cooper."

He raised an eyebrow. "Why is that?"

"You may have surrendered, but I haven't," she replied coyly.

"What does that mean?"

"This." She resumed her assault on his ribcage.

"I don't think you understand the meaning of surrender, but two can play this game."

"Sheldon, I'm sorry," she shrieked, as he found the ticklish spots under her armpits. She squirmed under his touch, attempting to escape the sensation, but he held her in place.

"I'll stop if you do."

"I don't believe you," she wheezed.

Instead of stopping, they turned it into a competition to see who could make the other laugh the hardest.

"You're going down, Cooper!"

"That's what you think."

Ten minutes later, faces flushed and chests heaving, Amy paused to admire her fiancé's beautiful blue, twinkling eyes. His pupils dilated as he gazed back. As if drawn by a magnet, her lips descended upon his. Her hands movements changed to a gentle caress. Mimicking her actions, he placed his hands on her waist, running them slowly up her ribcage then down to her butt.

"I motion that we call a truce, as I think we're both winners," he murmured when her lips left his to leave a trail of tiny kisses down his neck.

"Motion seconded." She returned her lips to his briefly, twisted out of his grasp, and slid off his lap.

He gaped at her as she picked up the neurology journal and began to read as if nothing had just happened. "Don't play innocent with me. I know that was just a ploy to get me into bed."

"My goal was to make you smile and relieve some of your tension, and I succeeded," she told him matter of factly.

"I was hoping we could continue our foreplay and engage in frenzied lovemaking. That's an even better tension reliever." He stood and held out his hand.

"What about the wedding cake?"

"How can I think about that now? You're a distraction, Amy Farrah Fowler. I've been distracted since the moment I met you."

"And yet you still want to marry me."

"I never said you were a bad distraction. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me. Shall we proceed to the bedroom?" Amy placed her hand in his and allowed him to pull her up. They took two steps from the couch when he released her hand. "You go ahead. I'll catch up with you in a minute."

"What are you doing?"

"Never you mind that, little lady."

She sauntered toward the bedroom. When she reached the door, she looked over her shoulder to find him staring at her backside. He blushed as he caught her gaze then strode over and playfully swatted her bottom. Giggling, she raced ahead of him into their room.


End file.
